Only Humanoid
by suckeggs
Summary: Bruce finds himself in the company of an old ally.


Title: **Only Humanoid**  
Author: suckeggs  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: _The Once and Future Thing, Epilogue, Batman Beyond series, Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker_  
Summary: Bruce finds himself in the company of an old ally.

* * *

He sat at his computer like he did in his youth, his grip firm upon the cane in his right hand. He didn't know why he continued to hold on when he was safely sitting, but he felt as though he'd always need it.

He didn't hear the footsteps until they were far too close for his comfort. But just as quickly as his weak heart had begun to race, he calmed at the familiarity of the stride.

"I'm sorry, Bruce. I have to remember to announce myself," a woman's voice said quietly as she reached his side. How did she know he had been surprised? He must have jerked and if he had, he damned his softening reflexes.

"What do you want, Shayera?" Bruce didn't turn to his guest, nor did he make any additional gestures to greet her. Typical Bruce.

"I came to thank you and Terry for helping Rex. He doesn't have many friends and any quality time, whether it be chatting or fighting, with someone he can relate to really seems to make him just a bit happier." She paused before continuing, and then placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, careful not to shock him. "So thank you, Bruce, for everything."

"Thank Terry. I had nothing to do with it."

"You're a blunt old man, but modesty has always suited you," her old fingers tapped lightly on his shoulder as she began to laugh. It was hearty and pure, almost pleasant to his deafening ears. It was something he rarely heard these days. Nobody ever laughed around him anymore.

"Their friendship after the conflict was inevitable. Rex was grateful and Terry sought the admiration. But it was only a coincidence that Terry managed to mend your son's wing when he had."

"Coincidence? Terry?" she spurted jestingly. "Like you've ever believed in coincidences."

She heard him hrumph.

Shayera chuckled again, "You used to be right, Bruce. It's definitely no coincidence that Terry acted as quick and efficient as he did. He's your _son_. He can think like you, and he _does_ think like you."

"I suppose there's a compliment in there somewhere," Bruce responded almost amusingly.

"It takes you forty years to finally grow a sense of humor," Shayera chuckled, and then it hits. Forty years… A quiet formed between them that made her spine chill. She had touched upon a sensitive subject. She shifted her footing, withdrawing her hand from him and moving to face the giant monitor of Bruce's computer. Shayera sighed, "Do you ever wonder if things had happened differently?" He remained silent, and she continued, "You know what I mean, Bruce."

"What do you want me to say, Shayera?" He turned his head to look at her, his voice suddenly fierce. "Do I regret having to lock my costume behind those glass walls? That that heart attack crippled me forever? Or leaving the Justice League and forcing my family to do what I did and _quit_? Do I _wonder_ what today would have been like if none of this had…" Bruce stopped mid-sentence as he felt his heart flutter. He raised a trembling hand to clutch his chest, the other clinging to the arm of his chair as he leant forward in pain.

Shayera lunged downward to steady him, coming to her knees to look at her old ally's face. "Bruce! I'm sorry… I shouldn't have mentioned it."

Bruce moved back to lean against the chair and waited for it all to subside. Bruce pulled out his medications from his coat pocket, dropping the bottle onto his lap. Shayera took it before he could react, removing the cap and handing him a dose. He swallowed the medicine, took a deep breath, then several more, and uttered, "Forty years for you to get so damned apologetic."

"Damnit, Bruce. Don't… don't you scare me like that." Shayera stood slowly, minding her stiff knees and sore back, and leaned against the counter where she placed the medication.

"Payback," Bruce stated nonchalantly, and she laughed a third time, albeit nervously.

"That's harsh, Bruce. Even for you..." she began drifting in speech.

Shayera suddenly felt tired, breathing slightly more heavily than before. She was weak, winded, like she'd been fighting a battle within herself. Bruce felt the same if not worse in his current condition. Shayera was younger than him, but when the years had begun to pile up, that difference became indescribably small. Noticing her discomfort, he pointed to his right where a chair stood coldly.

"You're the only one I see anymore, except John, of course, and Wally, occasionally. You're the only tie I have left," she said as she pulled the steel seat beneath her.

"Tie to what? I was never a full member. I quit before all of you."

"Tie to that time when _we _were the heroes. When all of us, even you, Bruce, were part of a team—something greater than us individually. We were all outcasts in one way or another, and when we had formed the League, it felt… it just felt right. But there were bumps, you know that as well as I do, and some of them were just too huge to ignore. Back then, I wished it was all different. Problem is, I still do."

"It's over, Shayera. It's all been over for years."

Shayera leant forward and rested her chin against a palm. The sigh she let out was quiet and sullen. "I know it is. But it doesn't hurt to reminisce."

He said nothing. She swore it was like talking to herself, and her voice then reflected that frustration.

"But no, no, you're right, Bruce. You always have been and it seems like you always will be. You know, it hurts a lot; it hurts a hell of a lot. Yet it's only humanoid to remember—to_ feel._ You and I, we're no different, not like they all think. Our masks are gone; we can't hide anymore, Bruce. And in this old age, when we just sit here, minds idly fading away, we can't help but think of the past, what might have happened, what should have happened," she paused, feeling a tear fall into the crease of her nose. With a hasty wipe, Shayera continued, "But hey, what can we do about it?"

A hypothetical question, but Bruce had the answer. And he felt helpless, as never before, saying it. "Nothing."

_Finis._


End file.
